


Grip

by Shatterpath



Category: The Incredibles (2004)
Genre: Angst, Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen takes on an unusual form of revenge on Syndrome's former minion...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grip

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: SO not my property. Please don't hurt the messenger for this weird little tale. I have no idea what madness grabbed me by the short and curlies.  
> Author's note: There's a special hell for writing this (chuckle) but I look forward to the trip! Pounded out in like half hour while perusing the list of femslash_kink prompts.  
> Beta: The always studly Ariestess. And boy did it need it!  
> Originally written for my 2010 Kink Bingo card for the prompt: Painplay, other.
> 
> Second Annual Femslash Kink Memne prompt: The Incredibles: Helen/Mirage, using superpowers during sex

The girl had always been desperate.

Desperate for attention, desperate for power, desperate for redemption.

Helen loved her life, her beloved family, the world that once more accepted them as what they truly were. Flexing the bones and muscles like rubber bands, Helen listened for the squeak, the only sound the girl would make for mercy. She had been easily trained, held in sway by Helen's more powerful will. That bastard, Syndrome, had nearly broken her anyway, though her help had made his downfall possible. Because of that, Helen spared her, though an outsider might not see it as mercy.

Mirage, no one knew her real name, was a beautifully pathetic figure caught amidst the coils of Helen's putty-malleable body. Like a hungry python, left arm and right leg constricted her frail form, the limbs more powerful than appearances would lend.

The power of this superiority over another being was an illicit thrill, a dark need that spent most of its time locked up safe and sound behind Helen's alert gaze. After all, she was the hero and this sort of thing should be beneath her.

Where they touched was hot, sweaty and wet, like a Turkish prison, a Roman bath, a brothel in the shadow of an active volcano. Like the inside of the red and black costume after a fight, the adrenaline of the fight for survival hot in Helen's veins.

That was how it started, of course. Mirage, always so calm and cool and collected. She visited often, aloof but kind to the children, helpful in the rebuilding of the Super presence in the real world. After all, the real world had pretty much forgotten them, written them off as a comic book pipe dream until they needed their special children once more.

The memories made Helen angry, her body clenching, her prey making a strangled whistling sound, the final breath of the victim in the python's coils. It took some real effort to back off, the alarmed flush of red beneath Mirage's rich coloring slowly fading.

Helen did ask if she was okay; there were never any words between them. Rarely in their normal lives and certainly not now. The need was enough, the boil of anger and hate and lust that surges and sparks like that containment field the Parr family once lay in the grips of in Syndrome's lair.

Was it because this cold, beautiful creature was so briefly what Helen thought Bob was cheating with? Was that where the emotional burn came from? Was it the boring vanilla life she was forced to live for so long? After all, even Helen had grown to believe the lie; grown to believe that life was no more than the kids fighting, PTA meetings, vacuuming up the detritus of their lives as it accumulated.

Being Elasticgirl felt like an old dream. Until Edna showed her those ridiculous costumes she'd since grown to love, sent her after Bob. Until the missiles, the fall from the sky as Dash and Violet screamed in fear. Until the robot, the madman with Jack-Jack in his clutches.

The rage burned hot in Helen and it had few outlets. In that broiling darkness she found the strength to step beyond the wife, mother, superhero and be the dark shadow of herself.

Squeezing her once-enemy, the beautiful face twisted in a riot of agony and ecstasy, was her only way out.

FINIS

**Author's Note:**

> The prompter replied a couple days after I posted: *gibbers* Oh, that was awesome. (If you're going to special hell for writing this, then I definitely am for prompting it!)
> 
> Thanks so much, this was beyond even what I'd hoped for. (Helen got shafted in the movie, and has to have major baggage. This explored it beautifully.)
> 
> I shot back: That was a fun feedback! Made me grin and chortle it did. (Sorry, having a Yoda moment there...)
> 
> I'm delighted that you got the piece, because I was truly concerned that it got so introspective. The whole story came from the image of all those rubbery limbs used as bondage and went from there. Awesome prompt, thanks so much for tossing it out there for my plot bunnies to nibble.


End file.
